Fug Girls: Fashion Week Superlatives

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Eight days and more than 40 shows after we arrived in New York, we lingered in the tent after L.A.M.B., watching the staffers clear up all the clutter and pack away the seats. There was nobody left to interview, no eavesdropping, no more gawking. A girl called across the venue to her friend, “What are you doing tonight?” The friend, who wore an event-staff name tag, let out a comically huge sigh and then made the universal sign for “I am getting wicked drunk in about ten minutes.” That felt like an apt button for our Fashion Week extravapalooza, but of course, we can’t ever button up the experience without handing out a few superlatives. Without further delay …